Page 208 of Fallen Omega

“Lizette.” Her voice is a hoarse sound. “Angel.Your…Angel.”

She half collapses, and I hold her before handing her to the other two.

“Get showered, get changed, and get upstairs,” I tell them, ignoring the wild emotions spinning inside my chest. Especially at her last words. “I’ve got a feeling the shit’s going to go down in the next few hours.”

I don’t feel any different. At least, I tell myself that. Sure, my neck both hurts and feels unbelievably good and her scent ticks up notches. But no. No different.

I dress in a suit and go upstairs to the main floor. Only Julien is at the door and Darcy is behind the bar. Knight’s in one of his slightly flamboyant suits and he’s draped around Liz like he fucking won her at a fair. And she loves it.

She’s in a pretty dress, one I suspect Darcy got for her. Because Angel tends to favor those big, boxy dresses I’ve grown to have an affinity for.

They’re very easy access.

Reaper’s in his black jeans and long T-shirt. He’s smoking a cigarette and goes off to talk with Julien.

I toy with my drink, staring at it.

Fuck. I hate this.

If I had my way, I’d walk into the Council building and kill them all. Or at least, see how many of them I could get. I’m pretty fucking sure Reaper would be with me and Knight would be on his computer, shutting down the cops at every turn.

But it’s a fantasy, a futile dream. The Council’s too big, an octopus as Reap said. This gamble is the best we can hope for.

I don’t tell the others, but it is a gamble.

And I find I don’t like gambling with Angel.

Not at all.

She deserves the good.

She deserves… Not me.

I fucking wish I smoked. Because I’d be giving Reaper a run for his money. Instead, I placate myself with the whiskey and the moderate fantasy of killing her mother.

I go still as a car door slams.

They’re here early enough to miss opening hours, but on time for us to be getting ready. There’s commotion at the door, and I sit back in my seat and wait as Julien stops her entourage from entering, even though the main doors are open, and Reaper leads in the queen bitch herself.

Candice looks at each of us.

And I can see it. The resemblance. It’s not huge. Liz looks more like her father, but it’s there.

Now I know.

I wait, observing her, looking at her beneath the layer of glamor and fierce competence. Beneath the aura of power.

And I realize something.

She’s fucking nervous.

Her gaze locks on mine and she looks away first. Darcy slams a bottle down, making her jump. Finally, Candice lays eyes on her daughter.

And wrinkles her fucking nose.

Knight growls.

She’s seeing the fading bruises, the untamed beauty. Her youth. And she’s seeing the marks on her throat. All of them.

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